


Pete's Chemical Romance

by etselec



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Chemistry, First Kiss, Fluff, Jock Pete, M/M, Nerd Mikey, cliche lab partners au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etselec/pseuds/etselec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That’s how it’s supposed to work, right? Nerds have to hate the jocks and vice versa?”</p>
<p>Pete shook his head and grinned. “That’s a fucked up concept.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pete's Chemical Romance

**Author's Note:**

> kind of inspired by: "I accidentally spilled hydrochloric acid on you so you really need to use the emergency shower and omg, if i knew you looked that good shirtless and wet i would have spilled it on you much earlier in the semester"

****

Pete Wentz was fucked—completely and utterly fucked. Like, more fucked than when Patrick got stuck in that tree on the first day of school (long story). Pete was fucked and it was all Mikey Way’s fault.

It all started in Chemistry class and they were assigned lab partners and of course—Pete was paired with the quietest kid in class, Mikey Way.

But Pete had seen him in class before. It’d only been a month since school started, but Mikey’s glasses always seemed to be askew and his hair always looked like it had never seen a comb before. Mikey never talked and cleared his throat more times than Pete could count.

He was certainly… intriguing, Pete decided.

“Hey, I’m Pete,” Pete introduced as Mikey took a seat next to him.

Mikey stared at him before pushing his glasses up higher up on his nose. “I know.”

Pete was taken aback. This Mikey kid didn’t have to be a fucking know-it-all. “You know?”

“Yeah,” Mikey shrugged, slapping his binder down onto the lab table, “you’re Pete Wentz, star senior soccer player, all the girls are practically in love with you blah, blah, blah.”

“Jeez,” woah, Pete had to back up for a second, “and just who do you think you are, Mikey Way?”

“I’m just me,” Mikey shrugged, “I’m a nobody compared to superstar Pete Wentz.”

Pete opened his binder. “You sound like you hate me.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to work, right? Nerds have to hate the jocks and vice versa?”

Pete shook his head and grinned. “That’s a fucked up concept.”

“I agree,” Mikey’s lips formed a grin, “it’s nice to meet you, Pete, I’m Mikey.” He held his hand out to which Pete shook.

“I passed your little test, huh?”

“You could say that,” Mikey smiled, picking up his pencil, “now what are we supposed to be doing?”

“We’re just mixing a bunch of chemicals and shit, right?”

“Yeah,” Mikey flipped through the papers, “every day this week we have to see if Chemical A will react with Chemical B, C, D, E, or F. So today is Chemical A.”

“Is that it?”

“Then we have to write a summary on what happened,” Mikey said, “then, yeah, that’s it.”

“Ugh, writing,” Pete mumbled, putting his goggles on, “let’s get this over with.”

—

After Chemistry was lunch and Pete was still thinking about that Mikey kid. Patrick was by his side at the lunch table while his stupid soccer team were making gross jokes.

“Do you know anything about someone named Mikey Way?” Pete asked.

“Yeah,” Patrick answered, “he’s nice, I guess. And smart.”

Pete nodded.

“But doesn’t talk much,” Patrick added, shrugging. “Why are you asking?”

Pete hoisted his backpack up higher on his shoulders. “He’s my lab partner.”

“Lucky you,” Patrick said, “he’s totally your type.”

Pete turned bright red and his cheeks grew hot. “Shut up. You’re the only person who knows I’m gay and I want to keep it like that.”

“But Mikey’s—”

“Shh, I know he’s my type, he’s tall and his jawline is out of this fucking world, but,” Pete looked from side to side to make sure no one was listening in, “I have a small baby crush on him so I don’t want it to get bigger and cause me more pain.”

Patrick cleared his throat. “Pete, you’re not listening. Mikey’s—”

“What’s up, Wentz?” one of his asshole teammates butted in, “still hanging with your nerd friend?”

“I’m right here, jackass,” Patrick sneered back.

“You’re so much better than him, Pete,” the asshole, Jack, said, leaning his upper body over the table to talk to Pete, “you should ditch him and hang with us more often. Why weren’t you at Jessica’s party last weekend? She got totally wasted and—”

“I was finishing up some shit, okay? I actually do my fucking homework unlike you guys,” Pete interrupted. “Why even is it some kind of rule that I have to sit with you jerks?”

“You’re a part of the team, bro,” Jack hit Pete in the side of the head and barked out a laugh, “we have a reputation. What do you think they would think if Pete Wentz, star player, went to sit with the nerds?”

“They wouldn’t care,” Pete spat out, “you guys are fucked up.”

Jack laughed. “Alright.”

“This is fucking bullshit,” Pete took his tray and pulled Patrick up with it, “come on.”

Patrick followed Pete to the front of the lunch room. “I can’t believe it. You finally cracked, Pete.”

“I can’t handle them anymore,” Pete sighed, “Mikey made me realize today that high school’s fucked up.”

“You’re _just_ realizing that,” Patrick’s eyes widened as he began to scour out a new place to sit.

“Yeah,” Pete nodded, “like, I can’t even sit next to my best friend since kindergarten at lunch? Like whaaat?”

Patrick scoffed. “Whatever,” he started to take a step forward, “now come on, I found a perfect seat right by your boyfriend.”

“What boyfriend?” Pete frowned, following Patrick to a lunch table where almost everyone there was wearing all black.

“Hey Frank,” Patrick greeted, taking a seat in front of him, “Mikey, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, dude,” Mikey eyed Pete as he hesitantly took a seat across from him. “What are you guys doing sitting with us losers?”

“My teammates are dicks,” Pete explained, sighing, “and Mikey, I’m only a jock because I joined the team and now they won’t even let me sit next to Patrick.”

Frank stuffed his face with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “That’s fine. You guys are always welcome here.”

Pete smiled. He remembered Frank from last year and they were pretty good friends. Actually, Pete was never even considered “popular” until his mother made him join the soccer team senior year of high school. Yet, he’d never noticed Mikey until this year. Shitty coincidence.

“Didn’t know you were friends with Frank, Mikey,” Pete said, sipping milk from his carton.

Frank slammed his hand on the table. “Dude—me and Mikey? Friends since elementary. And I’m dating his brother.”

Mikey’s hand went to cover his face. “I told you to never fucking mention you dating Gerard at school or I’ll kick your ass.”

“Your brother has a nice ass,” Frank added irrelevantly.

“Oh my God,” Mikey stared down at his lunch tray before picking it up, “I’ll be right back.”

“He likes you,” Frank blurted out once Mikey left, “Mikey likes you.”

Pete shrugged. “I like him, too. He seems nice.”

Frank started to shake his head. “No, I mean he—”

“I’m back,” Mikey announced, taking a seat next to Frank. He brushed a strand of brown hair out of his eyes.

Pete couldn’t help but want to kiss his dumb jawline and pet his stupid hair. Oh, God, he imagined what Mikey would look like when he—

“Shit, dude we gotta get to History,” Patrick interrupted his thoughts and zipped his lunch bag back up. “It’s all the way on the other side.” He lifted his backpack onto his shoulders.

Pete did the same, but turned around one last time. “I’ll, uh, see you guys around?”

“Totally,” Frank gave a toothy grin, “we should all hang sometime.” He nudged Mikey in the side, which earned a death stare from him.

“See you in Chemistry tomorrow,” Mikey said, smiling.

Pete’s heart fluttered as he returned the smile, hoping his cheeks weren’t bright red. He quickly turned back around and met Patrick by the lunchroom entrance. “Gross, gross gross, g—”

“Dude,” Patrick ran a hand through his hair, “are you okay?”

“I’m not o-fucking-kay,” Pete grumbled, staring at his converse as he made his way up the stairs, “feelings are gross.”

“Uh-huh,” Patrick said, monotone.

“I think my crush on Mikey Way is growing by the minute.”

“That’s cute,” Patrick snorted, pushing the door to History class open.

Pete scowled at him. “It’s _not_ cute. Mikey probably isn’t even _gay_.”

“Pete, you never listen,” Patrick said to himself, rolling his eyes. He took a seat next to Joe, to which Pete smirked at.

Pete took his seat on the other side and nodded his head to Joe, then raised his eyebrows and looked to Patrick, who’s eyes widened.

Patrick panicked. “It’s not like that! We’re just friends.”

“Friends who I find kissing in the hallway,” Pete muttered.

Patrick frowned. “It was _one_ time, okay? We haven’t talked since.”

Pete looked over to Joe, who was tapping his pen against his desk, obviously stealing glances at Patrick when Pete wasn’t looking. “You like him though, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Patrick said in a small voice, “now can you shut the hell up?”

Pete only grinned.

—

Pete arrived at school the next day very tired with a cup of coffee in his hands. Just as he opened his locker, a large hand shut it closed. Pete sighed, facing the culprit.

It was Jack of fucking course. “You ought to rethink what you did yesterday, sitting with those nerds.”

“What’s with you caring about where I sit at lunch?” Pete asked, still half-asleep. He took a sip of coffee and rubbed his eyes. It was too damn early for this.

Jack’s features suddenly grew soft as he leaned in close to Pete. “My girlfriend, Tracy—she won’t, you know… she says she won’t go out with me unless the soccer team does well. Once she notices that you suddenly are distant from the rest of us, then she’ll stop going out with me.”

Pete scoffed and reentered his locker combination. “Sorry, buddy, but you shouldn’t date a girl who’ll only go out with you just because of the soccer team.”

Jack slammed his fist on the next locker. “You take that back!”

Pete grabbed his belongings and shut his locker closed. God, the entire fucking soccer team were morons! Nearly all of ‘em. “Think about it, Jack. And I’m not sitting with you and your shitty teammates. I literally only joined the team because my mom made me,” he sighed, “I’ll see you at practice.” Pete zipped down the hallway and made it into his first class.

—

Late that afternoon, Pete was actually looking forward to Chemistry class because Mikey would be there and there would be more chances to attempt to flirt with him.

“Mikeyway,” Pete sat next to Mikey and smiled, “I missed you.”

Mikey blinked. “Really, huh?”

“Totally,” Pete nodded, “missed you so much.” What the fuck, what the fuck. Pete needed to tone it down a bit.

Mikey changed the subject, thank God. “So… do you want to get the chemicals and I’ll set up the test tubes?”

“Yeah, um, sure,” Pete swallowed, “I’ll be right back.” Fuck, Pete was so fucking awkward when it came to talking to Mikey. It’d only been a day since he met the guy and Pete had never been more embarrassed in his life.

He returned to Mikey with the purple and blue liquids and set them on the table. “You know what we’re doing, right?” Pete slapped his goggles onto his face.

“Yeah,” Mikey took the beaker with the blue liquid as Pete watched him carefully do the experiment. He thought Mikey looked funny with the goggles over his glasses. Actually, it was quite cute. “Hand me that test tube.”

Pete did as he was told, watching Mikey pour the liquids into the tubes. Pete watched Mikey work and noticed him stick his tongue out while he was concentrated and how his leg bounced up and down when he was attempting to be careful.

“Aaaand done,” Mikey poured the last of the chemicals into the tube and placed it back into the holder, “okay so it turned pink, so we have to write down that they don’t react.”

“Cool,” was all Pete could think of saying. He wasn’t even paying attention to the experiment and only to Mikey. He realized halfway through his summary that he wrote the word “Mikey” in the second sentence.

“So,” Mikey let his pencil drop onto the table and roll to the edge, “are you and Patrick sitting with us at lunch again?”

“Oh,” Pete bullshitted down a last sentence before dropping his pencil, “is it okay if we do?”

“I’d like it if you would,” Mikey blurted out, “um, I mean, yeah, it’s nice having more friends to talk to other than Frank.” He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose.

Pete smiled. “It’s nice talking to you guys rather than my teammates.” _I’d rather spend my time talking to you rather than anyone else,_ Pete wanted to say.

“Can I—” Mikey bit his lip, “I mean is it okay if I meet you by your locker? Frank comes from the other side of the building and it’d be a lot less awkward walking into lunch with someone.”

Suddenly, Pete’s mind went all “!!!”. Mikey! Way! wanted! to! walk! with! him! to! lunch!

Maybe Mikey wasn’t as straight as Pete had originally thought. Maybe Mikey liked Pete, too! Oh, boy, Pete hoped to God. “Yes, that’s totally fine!” Pete tried to say this as coolly as possible.

Once the teacher was out of sight, Pete whipped out his phone and brought up a new message to Patrick: _dont meet me by locker. mikey wants 2 walk to lunch 2gether. dont ruin it bro._

Patrick texted back: _ok... ur fckin welcome._

—

Pete was at his locker immediately after the bell rang. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and stuffed his binders and papers into his backpack. A sudden tap on his shoulder startled him.

It was Mikey.

Pete spun around only to find him almost nose-to-nose with Mikey. He watched Mikey lick his lips and Pete wanted to scream. He swallowed and spun back around to shut his locker closed. “So, uh, hey.”

“Hey,” Mikey smiled, adjusting his glasses, “you ready?”

“I was born ready,” Pete replied. He started to walk with Mikey by his side. “So, Mikey,” he said once they reached the lunch table, “we should do the thing,”

“What,” Mikey blinked at him.

“I mean,” Pete turned red again, “you should, uh, give me your number so I can text you when I’m bored.”

“Oh,” Mikey looked less confused now, “yeah, of course.” Mikey took ahold of Pete’s phone and put his number in just as Frank and Patrick arrived at the table. Pete quickly snatched his phone back and texted a “:P” to Mikey’s number.

“Yo, Mikes, you wanna come with me and get some food?” Frank asked.

“Hell yes, dude,” Mikey stood up and followed Frank to the lunch line.

Patrick faced Pete. “You know, you’re practically _exuding_ , like, lust vibes.”

Pete crossed his arms. “Lust vibes?”

“You want his dick so fucking bad,” Patrick explained, causing Pete to choke on his own spit.

“No, _no,_ ” Pete turned scarlet, “Patrick! I may kind of-sort of want his dick, but I want to kiss him and, like, hold hands first!”

“If you say so,” Patrick rolled his eyes and pulled out his sandwich.

Pete took his soup container out of his backpack along with a spoon and tried to ignore what Patrick had said to them as Frank and Mikey sat down with their food.

“Guys, I got a new record player this weekend,” Frank announced excitedly, “I can finally play my Bowie records.”

“You never told me you liked Bowie,” Mikey said, his mouth still covered in sandwich crumbs. Pete wanted to lick them off his face.

“Hell yeah,” Frank nodded, “Gerard got me into them and aw, man, he always played that one song while we were—”

Mikey covered his ears. “Stop it!”

—

The rest of the day after lunch went boring as usual, but then it was soccer practice and he had to face his dickhead teammates again.

Jack met him in the locker room just as he was applying his deodorant. “Hey, I, uh, actually thought about what you said, Wentz.”

Pete raised his eyebrows at him. This could not be fucking happening.

He needed a video camera.

“And I broke up with Tracy,” Jack said a little sadly, still trying to keep up his tough image.

“Good for you, bro,” Pete nodded at him.

“You don’t have to sit with the team,” Jack sighed, “I was a dick, if you want to sit with your lameass friends, then so be it.”

Pete was surprised. The day was actually going in his favor today. Mikey had given him his number and Jack was actually fucking realizing what an asshole he was. “Dude—thanks.”

“No problem,” Jack slapped Pete on the back and Pete winced, “just… try not to kick my ass too much during practice,” he placed one his hands on his chest, “my heart’s still a little tender.”

Pete laughed. “You got it.”

Maybe Jack wasn’t _that_ much of an asshole.

—

Pete only looked forward to Chemistry class for the next two days. He spent Wednesday watching Mikey’s pretty face twist up in concentration during the experiments and talked to him at lunch all the way until the bell rang about the Star Wars movies while Frank and Patrick just watched in awe.

Pete spent Thursday in Chemistry completely silent because he never realized how pretty Mikey’s hazel eyes were and he looked away quickly once Mikey made eye contact with him. Pete talked to Mikey at lunch about punk rock and their favorite bands for what seemed like forever. Who knew they had the same taste?

It was Friday when shit went down.

Pete was rushing from English class down to Chemistry as usual. When he finally took a seat in the classroom, Mikey was already at the table.

“Hey, Mikeyway,” Pete wanted to kiss him on the cheek so badly. It sucked, “miss me?”

“Always do,” Mikey responded, grinning a full set of teeth.

“I’ll get the chemicals?” Pete asked, already standing up from his seat.

Mikey nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pete smiled and later returned with a beaker with blue liquid and a beaker with pink liquid.

Mikey took a separated test tube and poured some of the pink into it. “Hey, you wanna help me for a change?”

Pete swallowed. “I dunno. I might fuck it up.”

“You won’t fuck it up,” Mikey rolled his eyes. He swirled around the test tube. “All you gotta do is pour some of that blue shit into the test tube.”

Pete nodded, picking the test tube up. “Sounds easy.”

“It is,” Mikey agreed, “Frank could do it with his eyes closed.”

Okay Pete, deep breaths. You got this. Was this toxic? If he spilled it on Mikey, would Mikey die? Oh, God, he hoped not. Pete brought the beaker with the blue liquid closer to the test tube Mikey was holding and—

Pete sneezed.

He opened his eyes afterwards only to see that the blue liquid was no longer in the beaker but all over the table and on _Mikey’s hand._

_Oh shit._

Mikey, meanwhile, remained expressionless. His face was blank like he was trying to ignore what Pete had done.

“Mrs. Smith!” Pete yelped, taking the test tube Mikey was holding out of his hand and shoving it back in the holder.

“Yes, what’s the matter?” Mrs. Smith took one look at the lab table and Mikey’s hand before grabbing ahold of Mikey’s sleeve and pulling him to the front of the classroom. “Mr. Way, are you alright?”

“Um,” Mikey’s voice came out high-pitched, “it burns… a little.”

Mrs. Smith bit her lip. “Take your sweatshirt off.”

Mikey tilted his head. “It only got on my hand.”

“This is a very toxic chemical, it could spread in a matter of minutes.”

Okay, this was bad, but Pete felt sort of excited because Mikey was gonna be _shirtless_ and _wet_ and it was every fantasy of Pete’s come true. He hoped that Mikey wouldn’t die so Pete wouldn’t feel bad for thinking these things.

Mikey stripped off his sweatshirt and shirt until he was left shirtless and embarrassed. He stepped into the science shower and Pete watched Mikey fold his arms and his eyes close as the water ran down his body.

_Oh my God,_ Pete thought, _Mikey has abs._ Pete touched his mouth to make sure he wasn’t drooling all over the table. His natural instinct was to look away to be courteous, but his gay ass couldn’t fucking look away.

All of the sudden, Pete felt bad—and angry at himself that he was feeling bad _just now._ All eyes were on Mikey who looked cold and wet and Pete was the reason. Okay, maybe Pete was enjoying looking at Mikey shirtless but Mikey certainly was not.

The teacher urged Mikey to step out of the shower a few minutes later and offered him a towel to which Mikey graciously accepted.

“I’m sorry,” Pete blurted out, once Mikey was out of the shower.

Mikey frowned and shook his head at him. “It’s okay,” he said weakly. Mikey was humiliated and sad and wet and Pete wanted to give him a hug and maybe make-out with him to make him feel better.

“Michael, why don’t you change into your gym uniform?” Mrs. Smith said, pointing to the door.

Mikey nodded, took his belongings, and left the classroom.

Pete felt like an asshole. Like, more asshole-y than Jack. Mikey probably hated him and his chances with him being a _friend_ at least were ruined. Forever.

Mikey didn’t come back for the rest of class.

Pete, upset, finished the lab and shoved his binders into his backpack and stared at the whiteboard. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Patrick’s name.

_dude,_ he typed, _i majorly fuckd up. meet me by lockr aftr class thx xoxo_

_howd u fuck up,_ Patrick texted back.

_i’ll tell u l8r,_ Pete replied. Finally, the bell rang and Pete was at his locker, ready to climb into it and hide in there forever.

Patrick appeared seconds later. “I wanna know what happened. Spill, Wentz.”

Pete sighed. “So I, like, spilled toxic chemicals on Mikey and he had to take off his shirt and stand in the shower,” he made sure Patrick was listening, “but, dude, he looked so good shirtless.”

Patrick brought a hand to his face. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

“I _know_ ,” Pete bit his lip, “and I feel like a douchebag because I just sat there and stared while Mikey looked like he wanted to die.”

Patrick shook his head. “I’m gonna be surprised if Mikey’s still gonna want to be your friend.”

Pete’s heart sunk. “You think?”

“Maybe,” Patrick shrugged, “now come on let’s get to lunch.”

—

Mikey wasn’t at lunch that day and Frank had no clue where had disappeared to. This made Pete even more upset because was Mikey… avoiding him?

There was no practice on Friday so Pete went home and crashed down on to his bed and stared at the ceiling. His finger hovered over Mikey’s name in his phone and eventually started to type out a text.

_im sorry,_ he started out, _pls dont hate me_

Pete threw his phone across his bedroom and fell asleep only to wake an hour later to a distant buzzing. He sat up and crawled off his bed to search for his phone and pressed the call button only seconds before it would stop ringing. “Hello?”

“Pete?”

Mikey. It was _Mikey._

“Mikey?”

“Hey,” Mikey breathed out, like he was relieved, “are you getting my texts?”

“I, uh,” Pete sat cross-legged on his floor, “I fell asleep.”

“Oh,” Mikey said quietly. It was silent for a few seconds, “I don’t hate you, you know.”

“Did you avoid me the rest of the day?” Pete dared to ask, his palms sweaty and his face probably about 20 shades of red.

“No,” Mikey sighed, “well yes… but I was avoiding everyone else, too. I was embarrassed, but it’ll blow over by Monday.”

Pete let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. So Mikey didn’t hate him, he was just embarrassed. Pete would, too, if that sort of thing happened to him.

“That’s good,” he decided to say. He was afraid he might slip up and say how good he looked shirtless and wet so he carefully thought out his next sentence. “Hey… do you want to maybe come over tonight? For a little bit. To make up for what I did.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Just tell me where you live.”

Pete rattled off his address then hung up.

Mikey arrived at Pete’s house not too long after their phone call. Pete’s mom wouldn’t be home for hours so they basically had the house to themselves.

Pete lead Mikey to the living room and picked up a Xbox controller. “You play Halo?”

“Fuck yeah,” Mikey gladly accepted the controller.

—

They played a few rounds before it started to get dark out. Pete shut the system off and they both sat on the couch while a movie on ABC Family played in the background. Pete noticed the reflection of the moon in Mikey’s glasses and he couldn’t help but sigh.

Pete felt _guilty._ Like he was hiding his feelings. Even if Mikey didn’t like him in that way, Pete just needed him to know that he had a really big crush on him; he needed to get it off his chest.

A few minutes into the first commercial, Pete cleared his throat. “Mikey?”

“Yeah?” Mikey blinked up at him with his fucking pretty eyes.

Pete’s throat almost closed up. “Can I… tell you something that you might hate me for?”

“I won’t hate you,” Mikey laughed, “you spilled chemicals on me today, what could be worse?”

_Bless your pretty soul, but you don’t even know._ “Trust me.”

“It’s okay,” Mikey said softly, turning his full attention to Pete, “you can tell me.”

Pete sucked on his bottom lip and tried to look everywhere except Mikey. Fuck, he was really doing this. Friendship potentially could be ruined in a matter of minutes! He better say it now or he’ll never end up saying it again. “I’m gay.”

Mikey’s face didn’t show any sign of expression for the first few seconds, but then his face twisted into a grin. “That’s fine, dude.”

“You’re sure… you’re okay with that?” Pete blinked, clearly surprised at how Mikey was taking this.

“Yeah,” Mikey practically giggled, “Patrick didn’t tell you I’m gay, too?”

Woah. Wait a minute.

Pete totally didn’t expect _this._ Admitting you’re gay to someone is one thing, but having the other person come out as gay as _well_ , was another. “You’re—?”

“Yeah,” Mikey was smiling full on now.

“Thank fucking God,” Pete leaned in and kissed Mikey on the lips, bringing his hand up to cup his amazing jaw. He felt Mikey melt into the kiss as he put his hand in Pete’s hair. Pete smiled against Mikey’s lips before kissing him more deeply this time.

They kissed like this for what seemed like hours—or until Mikey was basically on top of Pete on the couch.

“I had a huge crush on you,” Mikey muttered, his lips close to Pete’s, “from when we became lab partners.”

Pete laughed, stroking Mikey’s soft hair. “I did, too.”

Mikey pressed another kiss to Pete’s jaw.

“Can I tell you something?” Pete asked.

Mikey nodded, pushing hair out of Pete’s face.

“It was _reaaally_ hot when you got all shirtless and wet,” Pete admitted, “I know it wasn’t fun for you, but it was a fucking heyday for me.”

Mikey squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh my God, I thought you were just staring at me weird because I was skinny and awkward.”

“No,” Pete’s eyes widened, “you’re fucking hot.”

Mikey shook his head. “This is so weird.”

Pete nodded in agreement.

“You know what’s also weird?” Mikey added, “I would’ve never gotten to know you if it weren’t for Chemistry class and Mrs. Smith paired us up. I would’ve just always known you as one of those dumb jocks.”

Pete scoffed. “We’ve had a sort of chemical romance.”

Mikey grinned. “Dude, I like that. Sounds like a book. ‘My Chemical Romance with Pete Wentz’.”

“I like the sound of that.”

****  
  
  



End file.
